


Reconsidering The Rockets

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: Imagine Tony & Bucky [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Tony Does Flirting With Upgrades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3530954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Prompt: Imagine Tony building Bucky a new arm. But it's Tony, so of course, he goes completely overboard, loading it up with all sorts of ridiculous gadgets and attachments. Bucky loves it. AND: Imagine Tony and Bucky being involved in a lab accident that turns them both into teenagers, but Bucky still has his metal arm and now it's way too big for his body, so he finally lets Tony examine it so he can figure out how it works and make one that actually fits Bucky. They end up arguing because Tony wants to add in all kinds of extra features, but Bucky literally just wants an arm. AND: Imagine jealous James :3</span>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, oh, and,” Tony exclaimed, practically bouncing on his heels, “check <em>this</em> out!”</p><p>He grabbed Bucky’s wrist, and with some hocus pocus, a flame shot out of Bucky’s fingertip.</p><p>“Are you kidding me?” Bucky flicked the flame off and on, off and on, while Tony’s smile grew wider and wider. “That’s something else, Stark.”</p><p>Bucky fished his smokes out of his pocket, tucked one into the corner of his mouth, then lit it with his finger, waggling his eyebrows as he took a long drag. “I like.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reconsidering The Rockets

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [关于机械臂的花样改造](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5106878) by [dianamiao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianamiao/pseuds/dianamiao)



> Originally posted over on [imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/). Be sure to stop on over and also enjoy the amazing contributions of [Potrix](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix), [27dragons](http://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons), [InnerCinema](http://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerCinema), and [kamaete](http://kamaete.tumblr.com/)!

“Oh, oh, and,” Tony exclaimed, practically bouncing on his heels, “check  _this_  out!”

He grabbed Bucky’s wrist, and with some hocus pocus, a flame shot out of Bucky’s fingertip.

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky flicked the flame off and on, off and on, while Tony’s smile grew wider and wider. “That’s something else, Stark.”

Bucky fished his smokes out of his pocket, tucked one into the corner of his mouth, then lit it with his finger, waggling his eyebrows as he took a long drag. “I like.”

For his part, Tony plucked the cigarette out of Bucky’s mouth, but brought it to his own lips for a quick puff before putting it out. He blew a smoke circle up over Bucky’s head, then grinned and said, “No telling Cap I’m encouraging your filthy habits.”

But Bucky’s mind had already wandered. It was the casual intimacy that had distracted him, the selfsure way in which Tony just invaded his personal space. How he let his fingertips brush against Bucky’s lips as he helped himself to the smoke, and the playful look in his eyes while he did it. The slight emphasis he’d used saying the word ‘filthy’ as he smiled up at Bucky.

It was enough to make a man jealous of a cigarette.

“What he don’t know,” Bucky answered with a sly little smile of his own.

+

“So, I just…” he rotated his wrist, and with a satisfying, vicious little noise, a blade appeared from nowhere, extending out along the length of his palm. “Huh, will ya lookit that?”

Tony grinned wildly, wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s wrist, and made a cursory examination. “Is it fast enough, though? I should make it faster. Hmm. Oh, would you want to be able to launch it? That might be cool!”

He pulled a tool out of his back pocket, and began fiddling, tongue tucked into the corner of his mouth as he concentrated, Bucky’s hand cradled against his stomach as he worked. Bucky was about to offer to sit down at the workbench, or even remove the arm to make it easier for him, but instead he just tried to keep his expression casual. Wondered if Tony even cared how close they were standing, close enough for him to feel Tony’s breath against his skin.

“Figured it might come in handy in a pinch,” Tony rambled, handing Bucky the tool he was apparently done using, pulling another out of his back pocket. “You know, in close quarters?”

Tony looked up through his lashes, and Bucky tried to ignore the way his blood surged south.

“An ace up my sleeve,” he suggested, and Tony laughed at this, one of his stupid, endearing little laughs, the lines around his eyes crinkling.

“I like that. JARVIS?”

“Anticipating your request, I’ve already begun fabricating the new engraved version, sir.”

“And that is why I love you best, J.”

Bucky swallowed, and tried to tell himself it was silly to be jealous of a disembodied voice.

+

“Why would I want my arm to play music?”

Tony shrugged, and hopped off of the kitchen counter, motioning for Bucky to follow him.

“Why  _wouldn’t_ you?”

+

“See, emergency communications,  _that_  I get,” Bucky said a week later when Tony further modified the audio components he’d worked into the arm.

“You can still play music,” Tony pointed out. “Have you considered the psychological impact of heavy metal pumping out of your arm while you beat the living crap out of something?”

He paused to take a swig of coffee, then helped himself to a bite of Bucky’s sandwich. He watched Tony chewing, and glared at the food, suddenly irrationally upset with the ham and cheese for having been in Tony’s mouth.

+

It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t appreciate the upgrades—he did, big time—it was just that he was starting to feel like the only reason Stark invited him around was to play with the fancy arm he just so happened to be attached to.

Never in a million years would Bucky have guessed he’d wind up jealous of his own appendage.

+

“It should only last a couple of days,” Bruce swore after yet another round of apologies.

Tony pouted, and flounced, and all but threw himself in a chair theatrically, his head lolling to the side as he stared up at Bruce and Bucky in turn. “This is awful. The  _worst_. I have a list of things I _don’t_  want to relive, Bruce, and being a teenager? Right up there with being held hostage in a cave.”

Bucky heard him, but was a little distracted by the transformation. Not his own—he was in the same boat as Tony, suddenly back in the awkwardness that was his seventeen year old body—but by _Tony’s_  transformation.

It was all there, you could see how his features would make the successful segue from almost awkwardly pretty to undeniably sexy, but at the moment he was like a puppy. A distracting, big eyed, soft lipped, smooth faced boy, with ridiculous hair, and…

Tony, the absolute bastard, sucked his lower lip into his mouth, leaving it shiny, and wet, and hey, look, Bucky’s teenaged libido was all over that.

Tony hopped up out of the chair, frowning down at his now baggy clothing. “Hey, jailbait, you and me, let’s 23 skidoo.”

“Uh…”

Tony gestured to the arm. “You’re all disproportional now, and I can tell by the way you’re holding yourself that things aren’t working right.” He shoved his hands in his pocket and shrugged his shoulders. “Pepper cancelled my trip to Japan. No way am I risking being seen in public like this. Might as well keep busy with you.”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but regardless, back to the workshop they went, Bucky sitting quietly, watching as a tiny Tony scampered around the place like he was hopped up on goofballs.

“I  _do_  miss the energy,” he exclaimed, spinning in his chair. “Forgot about that bit. I bet I don’t need to sleep the entire time we’re stuck like this!”

Bucky didn’t answer, just frowned at the empty sleeve hanging down at his side, and then redirected his scowl at the holographic schematics of the new, smaller version on the arm Tony was fussing over.

“Wait, what’s that?” he pointed to a dark cluster, frown growing as Tony expanded the view.

"The rockets!" He grinned wildly, all big brown eyes and maniacal glee. "Can you believe I never put rockets in the original? Don’t know what was wrong with me."

"Don’t exactly need rockets to hang around the tower for a couple days, do I?"

For just a moment, the smile froze, then stretched a little wider. “Well, no. I guess you don’t  _need_ them, but,” he gestured enthusiastically, “rockets!”

Bucky sighed. “Leave ‘em out.”

Tony clearly hadn’t been expecting this reaction. For a full thirty seconds he just stared, the excitement sliding off of his face and leaving behind confusion, and the biggest, brownest pair of wounded eyes Bucky had ever seen.

"Oh. Um, okay, sure."

Tony returned to his work, a little quieter this time, and Bucky fought the urge to apologize. It was  _his_  arm, not Tony’s, after all, the guy shouldn’t just presume he had the go ahead to load it up with a bunch of nonsense.

Especially when he was stuck sitting there, feeling awkwardly adolescent, and entirely unbalanced by the absence of his left arm.

Or, admittedly, maybe his problem was really the unrelenting hard on.

Because Tony the bastard Stark was too pretty for his own good, and not wearing nearly enough clothing, and seemed to go out of his way to suck on his lower lip, or bend over, or touch Bucky, and he was seventeen again, and horny and just wanted to jerk off. With his left fucking hand! But no way was he trying to explain  _that_.

So, he sat, and sulked, and tried to think about unarousing things, like Clint in a dress, or Coulson tasering him for thinking about Clint in a dress, but nothing seemed to help. Every time he thought he had it under control, Tony would stretch, and he’d catch a glimpse of the light trail of hair around his navel that all but forced his eyes downward, or Tony would crack his knuckles and Bucky would be distracted by how delicate his wrists seemed, how long and dexterous his fingers were.

It was torture, plain and simple.

"Wait, is that… Cripes, Stark, just build me an  _arm_!”

Tony blinked owlishly. “But I thought you liked the finger lighter?”

Bucky jumped to his feet, and jabbed at the holographic display. “Sure, it’s swell, but so is having an arm!”

He knew he was overreacting, but… It’d been  _hours_. He couldn’t take it any more.

Tony got to his feet, and there he went with the damned lip sucking again! Bucky grit his teeth, even as Tony rolled his eyes and began rambling.

"It’ll only take a couple extra minutes in the fabrication process. And seriously, do me a favor, reconsider the rockets. We could blow shit up later." He grinned cheekily. "I spent a lot of time blowing shit up when I was a kid, so it just feels right.” Tony cocked his head to the side and gazed up at Bucky, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “Does it feel right to you?"

Bucky growled. “I just want a plain ol’ arm. No rockets, or lighters, or… or thingamabobs or any other bullshit, Tony!”

Tony seemed to consider the request, then arched an eyebrow and said, “Lasers?” He took a step forward. “One laser, just a tiny one.”

"No!"

Tony took another step. “Have you considered a super charged magnet? Zap! The enemy’s gun would be snapped out of his hand and glued to your shoulder.”

Bucky growled. “Are you serious? No, definitely not!”

Tony was much closer than before. “What about a sonic boom?”

Bucky hung his head, grit his teeth. “Tony…”

"Fine, how about a blow job?"

Bucky opened his mouth reflexively to shout down the suggestion, but then realized what had been said. “Nooo-aah, wait, what?!”

Tony grinned. “My mouth, your dick?”

And wow, okay, that hadn’t been a hallucination after all. Tony gave him a look that was just plain filthy, made a point of staring Bucky right in the eyes while biting into his lower lip.

Bucky made a strange, high pitched whining noise, and Tony’s seductive expression shifted into something more apologetic. He raised his hands and took a step back. “Sorry, mixed signals. You’re not interested, its fine, we can pretend I never offered. No hard feelings?”

“What?” Bucky gawped, and while he stood there in shock, still not saying anything, his frustration cleared enough for him to notice the sad sort of resignation in Tony’s eyes. “Why?”

“Why…” Tony scrunched his face up in adorable confusion. “Why what? Why offer? Or…”

Bucky licked his lips. “No, why  _now_?”

Tony shrugged again, and looked down, his face a little pink. “I finished your new arm two hours ago. It’s already fabricating, should be done in about twenty minutes.” He raised his head, and the shyness looked out of place on his face. “No bells and whistles, just an arm.”

“What the…” Bucky’s anger was long gone. “What was all that, then, with the… the lasers?”

Tony looked around the workshop, avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t want you to leave.” He frowned. “Frankly, I’m running out of excuses to work on your arm, and how else am I supposed to get you all to myself?” He exhaled, and smiled, looking about two seconds away from bolting. “Besides, when will I ever have another chance to ravish a seventeen year old version of you without feeling incredibly old, and perverted, and deserving of a prison sentence?”

Bucky blinked, blinked again, and took a step forward. “So, this whole time…”

“Wow, my flirting technique  _sucks_ ,” Tony grinned sheepishly. “C’mon,  _Buck_.” Oh, and the way Tony used his nickname made Bucky’s pulse jump. “Making your arm play music? That doesn’t even make sense.”

Bucky burst out laughing, while Tony rolled his eyes, folded his arms across his chest, and nodded. “Okay, ha ha, just… Maybe don’t tell the others? Cap’ll get all sincere and want to talk about feelings and diversity issues, and Clint will never let me live down how poorly calibrated my gaydar is, while…”

Bucky didn’t waste time asking what the hell gaydar was, he just used his one remaining arm to grab Tony by the front of his shirt, drag him forward, and stopped his rambling with a kiss. With tongue. Lots of tongue. And maybe he also let go of Tony’s shirt in order to grab his ass.

Later, when he could actually think and speak coherently again, Bucky announced, “I’m reconsidering the rockets. Feels right to me.”

“Good call.”

Tony lifted his head from Bucky’s shoulder, sat up, looked around for his pants, gave up, grabbed Bucky’s instead, and pulled them on with a shrug. Bucky watched the way the fabric of his pants dragged across Tony’s skin on the way up, and how they hung low on his hips.

It was enough to make a man jealous.


End file.
